Parents taken, so were we
by christiangirl22
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own the Left Behind series. All credit to Tim Layheye Jerry B. Jenkins. When Sara's parents go missing, and both she and her little brother go into care, they're both faced with the question. Were we wrong all this time? When they meet their foster parents' neighbor, Rayford Steele, they question the beliefs they once held dear.
1. Chapter 1

Beep! Beep! Beep! I, Sara Williams, wake up to my alarm clock blaring. Ugh. Another Monday. Another day of waking up at 6:30 AM. I drag myself out of bed and flip on the light switch. Then, I take a quick glance I the mirror. Great! Scribbles of red and green, purple and brown, marker and pen, all adorning my face. Nick drew on my face AGAIN! He can be so immature, even for a twelve year old! I honestly don't know why little brothers were invented. I go to the bathroom to wash my face. Well, the bus doesn't come till 7. I have time to shower. I get in, and wash my hair with store brand shampoo. Mom can afford them fancy shmancy cookies for her Bible study, but good shampoo is too much? Screw logic. I get out, and put on my favorite outfit,a green button down top, khaki pants, dress sandals, and a green vest. I go back to my room to retrieve my bookbag, phone, and purse. I pass Nick's room, and take a look inside. That lucky brother of mine is still sound asleep. His school, which I went to two years ago, is just across the road from our house, so he doesn't have to be up until 8. I shrug it off. Hey, life ain't fair. I get my stuff, and go sit on the porch to wait. I wish dad could take me to school like here did when I was little, but he goes to bed right before I get up. He used to work during the day, but he got fired because he suddenly refused to work pin Sundays. He found a new job quickly, but he has to work the graveyard shift. At least we're not poor because of his stupidity. The bus arrives. I take my usual seat, fourth row right side window seat. I start thinking. It's been Jesus this Bible that with my parents for the past two years. Nick and I both have science classes, but it's not ticket science to figure out that there's no god. A fun fantasy to teach kids to behave, much like Santa? Yes. Real? No. We've even been doing this thing called Devotions for the past month. Mom or dad reads something, we talk about it, then we pray. Well, they do. Nick and I just sit quietly. The bus arrives at school. I check my watch. 8:05. Darn it. I won't be able to shoot hoops with Emily until after school. I see her now. "Hey, Sara." she says, waving. "Hey." "How are you?" "About ad good as a teenager with crazy parents can be." "Parents still on that religious kick?" "It's not a 'kick'. It's an era. Kicks don't last for two years." "I promise this won't last forever." The bell rings. I head to geometry. I put my head down. I'm awoken by another bell. 9 already? I go to study hall, and do everything but study. I glance at the clock, 10:58. The teacher starts clapping, his pack up signal. The sound of zipping bags and shuffling paper fills the air. The bell rings. I rush to the cafeteria. Today's taco day. I get my taco, chief, and chocolate milk. I cough up my lunch money. Then, I sit with my friends. As in biting into my taco-y goodness, Emily looks at me, upset. "Sara, people have disappeared." I take a look around the lunch room. I see piles of clothes, some glasses, some retainers. wrist braces. Even an artificial leg. "This is probably just the senior prank." I say. Imagine that. A staged alien invasion. The seniors have outdone themselves. "You'll see." I continue. "The kids are probably just hiding." My phone rings. I look at my caller id. It's Nick. "What's the matter, Nickey-poo?" I tease. "Girlfriend steal your juicebox?" "Sara, knock it off. Jenny and I are just friends. And this is serious!" I roll my eyes. Serious to a twelve year old is miniscule to the general population. "Are there people missing at your school, too?" "Yes." "Well, in history today, just now, my teacher vanished into thin air." I hang up. Guess this isn't a senior prank. The principal's on the "Due to this disturbing occurrence, all schools the United states are to be dismissed immediately. I'm scared. What if this is that rapture thing our parents went on and on about. "Sara!"my brain scolds me. "There's no god. This must be aliens, or some strange disease, or even an act of terrorism." I arrive home. I see it, my mom's favorite dress, her wrist brace, ands her glasses. All in a neat pile on the porch. I walk into the living room, and see Nick on the couch and a social worker on the chair. "We're not being abused!" I blurt out. "Have a seat. I know how scared and confused you must be. I know I am." She says, kindly. I sit next to Nick. "Here's the deal. Your parents are among the missing, and you two are underage. I'm going to have to put you both in foster care." "Can't we stay with our grandparents?" Nick says, rage and panic in his voice. "I'm sorry, they're missing too. You're both wards of the state now." Social worker breaks down and cries. "I know you guys think I don't understand, but I do all too well. Every single student from my daughter's preschool went missing today about an hour before lunch time. Every. Single. Student." 


	2. chapter 2

A/N This story will alternate between Sara. Nick, and the social worker's POV.

Nick's POV

I can't believe it. Only yesterday, I told mom I hated her because she took away my phone. Now, I'd give anything to see her again. So much can change in a few hours. I never thought that I could possibly end up as a ward of the state. I'm a straight A student in the gifted program. My parents are, or should I say, were kind to me and all my needs were met. I'm the kid who makes other parents jealous. My sister, Sara? The only trouble she's ever been in was getting detentions for talking too much in class.

"You have thirty minutes to pack." the social worker says, finally calming down after telling us of her daughter's abduction. "Normally, the rule is one garbage bag of clothes and belongings per child; however, in light of today's events, I will make an exception. Fill up any bags you may have in addition to the garbage bag I provide. I'll hide them in my trunk."

Sara and I both head to our rooms. Thirty minutes to pack up our memories. Most of the things I want to keep can't be packed. How do you fit the smell of mom's peanut butter cookies into a suitcase? How can you stuff the feeling of sitting in the grass, leaning against our big oak tree on a warm spring day to sketch or read a good novel into a duffle bag? How can you put the sound of a train going by in the trunk of a car?

I start to pack. I put my clothes, socks, underwear, and toiletries in one bag. Then I put all my video games and gaming systems in another. I fill up my garbage bag with my books. I fill up two suitcases with my phone, wallet, and other odds and ends.

I take my stuff into the living room. Sara is sitting on the couch. She's done packing. I can hear her muffled sobs. I can tell she's trying to be strong for me. I feel like crying too. Our parents were probably abducted by aliens. Sara thought I was being ridiculous, but I knew those lights in the sky weren't from anything normal. I wonder what they want. Are they doing experiments on everyone? Are the kids being tortured?

The social worker tells us to put our stuff in the trunk, and get in her car. Sara sits on the left, I sit on the right.

"The nearest pair of foster parents, our, at least, the nearest competent foster parents, are three hours away. Just pretend you're on a road trip." the social worker says with a smile.

I stare at her as she's driving. She has short dark hair, just like mom. She has a gentle, kind voice just like dad. She's like a carbon copy of my parents. My real parents. Not the freaks she's going to be forcing us to live with.

I know what foster parents are like. Up until third grade, my best friend was in foster care. His name was Charles McKinnly. He never changed his clothes, so by November he was coming to school in tattered rags. He was thin as a rail, and didn't bathe often. He had bruises and marks all the time too. When I asked him about them at recess, he would swear that he and his brothers were just playing too rough the previous night. As a gullible eight year old, I bought it. When I asked about his clothes and hygiene, he'd change the subject. When it was time to start fourth grade,I noticed Charles wasn't there. I asked my mom. She simply told me that Charles had moved away. It was two years later that I learned the truth. Somebody got mad and called a social worker on his parents. The social worker that came was the caller's best friend. She gave Charles a bag of candy to say the sentences "I'm scared of daddy", "mommy doesn't love me" and "my parents hit me." He was only four at the time. He had no clue what was going on. All he knew was he wanted candy, and this particular candy was a type of candy his parents rarely let him have. His foster parents were abusive. He was only allowed to own one outfit every few months. He wasn't allowed to shower more than once a month. If he misbehaved, no matter how slightly, he was denied lunch money or, during weekends and school breaks, was given what they called "punishment" which meant the only food he would get would be plain crackers and water for 24 solid hours. And even then, he only got five per meal. To sneak an extra one, or eat one before a meal, resulted in a beating and a twelve hour extension. The parents' biological children were treated well. Eventually, he told my teacher what was going on, and a different social worker put him back with his parents.

I know how they'll treat me. Probably just like him. I'll be a second class citizen in my own home!

And this woman expects us to trust her. The path to hell is paved with good intentions.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N The social worker has a name now.

Tamara Smith's POV

It was 11:05 AM when my husband, Grant Smith called me at work. I rolled my eyes as I saw his number on my cell. "Great." I thought. "That man-child forgot his lunch again. I have got to stop enabling him." Nothing could have prepared me for what he was about to say. "Every student in her preschool is missing!" He said, sobbing. "And it's all over the world, Tamara, and I have no clue if they are even alive!" I didn't believe it at first. It was just too horrible to believe. My precious daughter, abducted? But then, I got a case that confirmed my fears.

I read the case file. "Sara Williams. Age 16. Nicholas Williams,age 12. Both parents among the missing. Grandparents missing. All known relatives either deceased or also among the missing. Address 322 Robert street. Most foster parents in state gone. Take to nearest foster home."

I checked on our database. "703 Mate Avenue." Three hours away.

Nick doesn't seem to trust me. Neither does Sara. I can't necessarily say I blame them. Everybody in town knows about Charles. If I was the supervisor, that excuse for a human being would have been fired immediately. But all she got was a slap on the wrist. I was the one who took him back to his parents. He barely weighed a third of what a 9 year old boy should. He was filthy and eaten up with lice. His emaciated frame was covered with suspicious bruises, welts, scratches, cuts, and scars. The terror in his eyes was intense. Add he got in the car, he began to cry. "The bad lady tricked me." He said, barely above a whisper. "Are you her friend?" I spent the entire time in the car explaining that what she did was not ok. I still check on him every now and then. He's been in therapy for the past year.

"Nick, Sara, I know you guys are having a hard time trusting me. But I am not on her side. The whole DSS hates her. I was the one who rescued Charles." I tell them.

They gasp in shock. "He was my best friend." Nick tells me after a brief silence. "How is he?"

"He's doing better. His parents are now licensed foster parents."

"Are they going to be our foster parents?"

"Yes."

We talk and sing and laugh and cry. We make a quick pit stop. Then we talk and sing and laugh and cry some more. I feel for these kids. Their entire world is crumbling all around them.

The distance is normally three hours, but it takes six hours today. That's because of all the wrecks. Drivers have disappeared from cars, causing them to careen out of control. That's not the only reason the disappearances have killed people. I heard that at a hospital in California, a surgeon vanished into thin air whole giving an elderly patient open heart surgery. There have been numerous suicides by crazy people convinced they have missed "the rapture"or some nonsense like that. I don't want to think of this horrible day. So we keep talking and joking to take our minds off of our deep pain.

We finally pull into the McKinnly's driveway. Charles runs out the front door. "Nick! It's so good to see you! " He shouts as we get out of the car. "And Mrs. Smith, what are you doing here?"

"Hey, Charles." I say, giving him a hug. "These kids are your new foster siblings."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Sorry for the long wait.

Charles POV

I can't believe it. Nick is going to be my foster brother. We have a lot of catching up to do. I remember how kind he was to me in elementary school. When the other kids would tease me, he didn't join them. He always made me laugh and took my mind off of my empty belly, my black eyes, and my broken heart. When I was with him, it was like my foster parents didn't exist. Well, usually. But not when he would get nosy. It was upsetting at the time, but the constant questions are what made me crack and tell the teacher the truth.

"Thank you." I say to him as he's bringing his stuff to my bedroom.

"For what?" He asks.

"For everything."

Sara's POV

Well, since I'm the only girl I have my own room. I don't think Nick minds though. I think he's glad that at least he's sharing a room with his best friend. I had to leave my best friend behind in the move. I text Jasmine, Emily's little sister. Emily dropped her phone in the toilet and her parents won't get her a new one until December.

"Hey, can I talk to Emily?" I ask.

"The police are here! When she found out her boyfriend was among the missing, she committed suicide. It was just ten minutes before I got home. I'm a horrible sister."

"It's not your fault." I text back, trying to convince myself as well as her.

I put my phone on my new nightstand. Then, I make my bed. I put my favorite poster near a small window. I feel a little more at home. I stand by the window for a few minutes. Then, I see something. A sparrow. Mom loved sparrows. Said that God took care of them as he does for us. The McKinnly parents are watching the news. Everything is about the missing. It seems everyone has been affected by the disappearances. Everyone has a relative, employee, teacher, friend, or spouse who is gone.

I think back to all the good times. Baking cookies. Renting movies. Going out to eat. Going for ice cream. I sit on my new bed, and cry. I cry harder than I've ever cried before. What I wouldn't give for then to be here one more day.

Nick's POV

Charles has some cool stuff in his room. He has a lava lamp and sci fi comics and regular comics. It's nerd heaven!

"What's that?" I ask, gesturing to what appears to be a stack of papers on his desk.

"Those are just some drawings I was working on." he replies. "Hey, wanna go chill with Raymie?" he asks.

"Who's he?"

"His real name is Rayford Steele jr, but everyone just calls him Raymie."

We walk downstairs to the living room. "Mom, can I go to Raymie's" Charlie hollers.

"Be back by supper." Mrs. McKinnly answers. We only walk a few steps. Charles knocks on the door. A man with dark hair, about my dad's age, answers.

"Is Raymie there?" Charles asks.

The man stares for a second. The sadness in his eyes tells me no. He closes the door. Charles is choking back tears. Whoever this Raymie is, he's missing too. When we get home, he rushes to our room.

"What's wrong, Charles?" Mrs McKinnly asks.

"Go away!" Charles shouts.

From his reaction to this Raymie dude being gone, he must have been pretty close friends with him.

Charles POV

Raymie's gone. It actually happened. That rapture thing that he would talk about sometimes. I thought he was crazy for believing in God. I thought his mom was nuts, too. I thought God couldn't exist, not after what I'd been through. Now, it's too late. I'm pretty sure this Jesus person won't let anybody else into heaven. Not after this. I missed the boat. This morning, I thought it was aliens, because people who never went to church went missing. Then, I found out all babies and little kids were missing. The rapture didn't occur to me until now. I break down and cry. All those years I rejected God, he finally rejected me.


	5. Chapter 5

Tamara's POV

I'm almost home now. There are so many wrecks, so many deaths. My own daughter is gone, for crying out loud! Wherever she is, I hope she's ok. I wish I could take back all those times I yelled at her, every "I'm busy.", every "Dry it up!" I just want to hold her again, to read her favorite book to her once more.

"End it all." A voice in my head whispers to me. "Get it over with. You have a gun. When you get home, just put it to your head and pull the trigger." No. I can't. I won't. I must be strong for Grant, for Charles, for Sara, for Nick. They need me.

I'm nearing a bridge. Traffic slows to a crawl. Eventually, I see it. A small, yellow school bus, and a dead body floating in the river. I'd know that bus anywhere. It's the bus for half day kindergarten. My brother drives that bus, and my daughter would have ridden it next year. His two sons rode that bus. When every child went missing, he got out, jumped into the river, and took his own life. I break down and cry for the tenth time today. My own brother. Another suicide amongst millions today.

I'm home now. My house is empty, so am I. I wonder where Grant is. He should be home from work by now. I go into the kitchen to make myself some tea and honey. I hear a knock on the door. It's the police!

"Ma'am, your husband was injured in a serious accident. He is being treated, but it could go either way."

I've already lost my brother and my daughter, not to mention my own parents and even some good coworkers. If I've lost my husband too, I don't know what I'll do.


End file.
